They still do not understand it fully, yet they came to me to speak out about it, to maybe prevent another autistic or special-needs child from also ending up in handcuffs.

The Johnsons’ son, the oldest of their three, is 9 years old. He was born prematurely at 26 weeks, and in 2009 was diagnosed with autism.

He was on the school bus returning to his parents’ Green Valley Ranch home last May 4. He is a little guy, about 4-foot-2 and 50 pounds, so every day on the bus he wears a harness that secures him to the seat, much like a safety belt.

On this day, though, he had either slipped out of it, or someone hadn’t put him in it. Though the Johnsons, no relation to me, live 10 to 15 minutes from the school, the boy had been on the bus for nearly 45 minutes.

According to the Denver police report, the boy began using profane language and was throwing things before he started running up and down the aisle.

Finally, he kicked in the shin the male paraprofessional who was on the bus to control such outbursts.

The driver, less than a mile from the boy’s home, turned the bus around and drove back to Maxwell Elementary School. There, the boy was met by school security, who put him in handcuffs.

“When I arrived, he was seated in a chair, handcuffed, with security, Denver police, the principal, teachers — about 10 people in all,” Raiko Johnson recalled. “He was so scared.”

Denver police ultimately decided to place him on a 72-hour psychiatric hold, and transported the boy, his hands cuffed behind his back, to Children’s Hospital Colorado.

When Donald and Raiko Johnson arrived, attendants were attempting to take their son’s blood pressure, but they couldn’t get a reading.

“It wouldn’t register because his hands were restrained so tightly behind his back,” Raiko Johnson explained. “I asked the officers if the handcuffs were really necessary, and they told me, yes, that it was for security reasons.”

Denver police spokesman Detective John White said each situation is unique, and officers have to find the best way to control a situation, whether it involves a child or an adult, so that the person does not present a danger to himself or others.

For the next five days, Raiko Johnson and her son, now uncuffed, waited in a special holding section of the hospital’s emergency room. You see, Children’s has but four psychiatric beds, and they were occupied.

A spokeswoman at the hospital said its psychiatric commitments have risen 36 percent since 2009, and long waits remain persistent.

The boy spent the next 2½ weeks at Children’s, undergoing a “medicine wash,” weaning him from all his medications, before reintroducing them. Had his medications caused the behavior on May 4?

Denver Public Schools spokeswoman Kristy Armstrong in a statement on Tuesday said the district regretted the incident and that it has conducted a thorough review.

“The review determined that DPS personnel acted properly in order to ensure the safety of everyone on the school bus and at the school,” the statement said.

“The parents remain devastated,” said Pam Bisceglia of AdvocacyDenver, who has been appointed as the advocate for the boy. “You cannot imagine what it’s like to see your child in handcuffs. There are so many alternatives before you have to resort to that.”

The Johnsons, she said, are speaking out, but they want to focus on a new beginning for their son.

“There are ways to intervene with children with disabilities, and despite a paraprofessional being on the bus, it did not happen in this case,” she said. “What happened was such an overreaction.”

The Johnsons were scheduled to meet Tuesday with district officials to finalize a support plan for their son, who starts school on Thursday at a different elementary school.

In an interview, Raiko Johnson holds a photograph of her son standing next to his father at the school, his arms behind him and cuffed at the wrists.

“Honestly,” she says slowly, “I don’t know anything they come up with will make us feel truly OK.”

Donald Johnson takes the picture and a more pragmatic approach.

“We just want him to be safe,” he said. “How can we best have a productive school year and ensure his needs are being met? That is our only concern.”

As news of the deadly mass shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, unfolded last week, Pia Guerra, a 46-year-old Vancouver-based artist, felt helpless. She couldn’t bring herself to go to sleep, so she began to draw.

Police who find suspected drugs during a traffic stop or an arrest usually pause to perform a simple task: They place some of the material in a vial filled with liquid. If the liquid turns a certain color, it’s supposed to confirm the presence of cocaine, heroin or other narcotics.